Alice Duer Miller
An American to France
O FRANCE, with what a shamed and sorry smile
We now recall that in a bygone day
We sought of you art, wit, perfection, style;
You were to us a playground and a play.
Paris was ours - its sudden green edged spaces
And sweeping vistas to the coming night,
Brocades and jewels, porcelains and laces
All these we took for leisure and delight.
And all the time we should have drunk our fill
Of wisdom known to you and you alone,
Clear-eyed self-knowledge, silent courage, will;
And now too late, we see these things are one:
That art is sacrifice and self-control,
And who loves beauty must be stern of soul.
Alice Duer Miller's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (An American to France by Alice Duer Miller )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- The Real Robber, Monojit Chatterjee
- Untitle II, Seira LNlee94
- Robbin Williams - RIP, krishnakumar chandrasekar nair
- Body and Spirit, Mwenyeji Spikes
- Abiding In Forgiveness, Mwenyeji Spikes
- A SPECIAL LANGUAGE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- The Other Side of the Gun, Vince Rogers
- Cruelty, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- My day in winter, Tiku akp
- The Inner Vault, Mwenyeji Spikes